The 4400: Pandemonium Sanctuary
by Pinewoodpine
Summary: When one of the returnees found his abilities to be destructive and growing more powerful… Is he the card player with a royal flush in his hands? R&R please! Timeline: From the beginning of Pilot, from the point of view of my OC.
1. Chapter 1: Pilot Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any 4400 characters except my own, okay?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 1: Pilot (Part 1)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He sat there on the piece of smooth rock, his feet on the dry ground, looking up into the twilight above him. He wore his coat tight around him, so that he couldn't feel the cold. His light brown hair, fluttered in the wintry air of December 1998. He smiled as he felt someone tapped his shoulder lightly.

"Hey, try and get some sleep alright." The deep and reassuring voice of a father said to his young adolescent son. He sighed out as white air flow out from his mouth and he rubbed his gloved hands together, to keep them warm.

"Just a bit more, dad. The sight in the mountains is always so breathtaking. You can see the stars and the moon so clear." He told him, his gaze never averted from the night sky except for his occasional blinks. He heard a snicker from his old man.

"I would agree with you, son. Too bad I have a damn truck to fix… stupid thing couldn't even drive us through the mountain range."

He smiled solemnly. "Don't worry dad, you should get some rest. We could continue tomorrow morning. If we're lucky, someone might just go pass here and notice us."

"IF we're lucky." The large man grumbled. He looked no where close his father, to tell the truth. He had sandy-colored brown hair, fair skin, and not so muscled though he swear that he did his share of body building. Most notably was his brown eyes… his father had blue eyes. Sparkling even, but he had always been proud of his son, saying that he had a 'down-to-earth' style like his mom…

Yeah. How long had it been? He couldn't remember… two, three years? "Well, suit yourself, kid. I'm going to bed. You'll find me in the driver's seat." And he heard footsteps going further, and further.

"Sure!" He replied with a cheerful tone, though it was so weak that he wasn't sure of his father had heard it. He continued looking at the dark heaven, one of the stars was shining so brightly… so beautiful. He felt like he could grab it, so he extended his right hand into the sky, and close his grasp. Laughing to himself for being a moron, he stood up and patted his jacket. And the next thing he knew, it was all blank.

A flash.

There he was, surrounded by people… lots of people… what were they doing here in the mountains? He looked around him, and a very weird feeling established in him. He felt… he felt lost… Where was he? No… that's not the right question… Where were they?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Returnee number 2017, please report to the front desk immediately. I repeat. Returnee number 2017…_"

"That's your call." He opened his eyes, not really wanting to listen to those damn words they had to say to him. For the third- no, the fourth time including this time. What do the want with him, what do they want with them? _I want to go home_. He thought to himself as he got up from the corner of the walls reluctantly. He was sick. Sick of the white clothing, sick of the white walls, even sicker of the people who won't tell him a damn thing! Well, at least they had TV in this prison… He walked towards the many windows, glass, whatever. He had absolutely no interest in these things…

He pulled the chair, and sat down. There he was again. Same guy, same coat, same sunglasses. He sighed and looked at the man again. He was already at the phone… He stared at him without doing anything. The man used his finger signaling him to take the receiver up. He complied.

"Thank you for cooperation, mister Frostburg." The man said to him in his seemingly monotone voice. "Don't mention it." He told him, wondering if he should make his life miserable by yelling that they had no legal rights to hold him back or something just to piss him off, like the pair next to them in another 'glassed'. He felt like maybe they wanted to bring it out onto the street.

"Excuse me, mister Frostburg."

"Joel. Call me Joel. I'm not that old yet." He talked through the receiver, his eyes still fixed at the pair beside them through the glass. Well, at least the place is sound proof. If not, let's just say that he could talk less.

The man tilted his face. "Very well, Joel. You're born in… 1983, am I correct?"

The light-brown haired boy nodded, his hazel eyes still at the pair. He could see their throat turning red now. He smiled at the sight. "Joel. May I have your attention?"

"I'm listening."

"Can you remember what happened, anything at all?"

"The answer I'm going to give is not going to change."

"Are you sure-"

"Yeah. By the way, your cafeteria sucks." He hung up the receiver, stood up from the chair, and simply walked away. Answers had already been given, and he was not going to waste his saliva talking about something again and again. He was not in a good mood. Heck, he was sure no one in this place was in a good mood.

As he was walking out of the room, he nearly collided with a little girl. He wasn't looking, so it was his fault. Naturally, he apologized. "I'm sorry… I didn't see you."

She looked at him with her dark eyes as her golden hair lay back to her shoulders. He smiled and knelt down. "Hey sweetie, are you alright?" He asked with sincerity, but she turned and looked at one of the TV screens. A woman was definitely talking about them, the 4400s they're now called. They were rioters yelling something about revealing their names to the public.

He won't be sure if he would be safe out there.

"Everything's going to be alright." He told her, reassuring himself at the same time as he looked at the TV screen. "Everything's going to be alright."

"No." She muttered. "Everything is not alright."

Deep inside, he knew she was right. There was no way things would go back to the days they were. He had been missing since when? 1998… It didn't even make any sense to begin with. He lost nearly 6 years. He should be 21 by now, and studying in a university, getting a girl friend, and lost his first kiss.

_When did things go so wrong? I missed dad, I missed my house, and I admit it. I miss school and I miss mom the most._

The girl wiped his tears away. He stared at her, and frantically stood up, brushing his tears away. "Uh… do you want to go to the cafeteria?"

The girl smiled.

"I take that as a yes." He said, as he gently took hold of her hand, and walked towards the direction of the cafeteria together. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"My name is Maia, and you're Joel." He continued walking, his mood was better. "How do you know my name Maia?

She shrugged a bit. "I just know."


	2. Chapter 2: Pilot Part 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any 4400 characters except Joel Frostburg and all my original characters.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 2: Pilot (part 2)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joel now stood in front of two complete strangers, together with an agent from NTAC. He was shocked, to say the least. Well, anyone would be shocked… especially when Joel was just told that his father was long gone. Six-feet-under. He was angry, angry that they didn't tell him this. He was fine, living alone in his father's house as long as everyone continued to ignore the fact that he was one of the forty-four hundred, if it was still there.

"Joel, meet your new parents. These are-"

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He asked the agent, angry brown eyes staring at him. No, his anger was not going to stop there. Oh no… The happiness of the returnees would not douse this flame so easily. His fists clenched as each breath became harder than the one before. "I had been kept here for six weeks, and now you tell me that my father is dead! God!" He shouted, some of the people began to take notice of him.

"Please Joel, calm down." And the two firm hands took hold of his shoulders, his eyes trying to penetrate the black glasses the man wore. He gritted his teeth as he pushed the man's hands away. "Please understand that we cannot inform you of anything from the outside that concerns about you. This is standard protocol."

He turned around, away from the agent, away from the two strangers behind him, a man and a woman. "I'm sorry, but I… let me think about it." He muttered under his breath as he looked out the many glass windows. He could see the smiles and laughter of the people as the boarded on the buses or into their cars. Why? Why wouldn't things continue just as they were? First, his mother. Now… he lost the only person he loved most.

_They took me_. He thought to himself. _Why wouldn't they just me die? What is my purpose of being left alive?_

Suddenly, he remembered something… Something he thought he would never had said. "I have relatives… my grandparents in fact. They disowned my father when he decided to run away from my mom…" He told him as he gazed outside. He was wearing a simple T-shirt and a pair of jeans, as well as the pair of sneakers he was wearing before he left them behind to the 'people' for the white uniforms.

"No."

"Like I'm going to listen." And he ran towards the automated doors, going past a few returnees as he dashed through the door as the sunlight pouring down on him. He didn't stop as he continued to run.

The man in the suit was going to stop the boy, but the man behind him told him to stop. Sunglasses apologized for Joel's odd behavior, but the well-dresses elderly man shook his head. Signaling to him that it was alright and all went well. They exchanged a few more words, and the couple, hand in hand, left the man behind. Baffled.

As the two left the quarantine, the elderly man patted at his wife's shoulder softly as the elderly woman with curly gray hair looked at her husband. "Don't worry, Adelaide. Everything will be alright. We promised him that we will take care of things, didn't we?"

The plump granny sighed, but she nodded. "I could see our son's shadow in him. He has the same character as his father, such rebellious spirit."

The old man laughed heartily as they approached a black limousine, the driver promptly got out from his seat and opened the door for his master and mistress to enter. "He is our grandchild, and speaking of characters, didn't rebellious always run in our blood and veins?"

She could only smile, and looked at the clear blue sky above them. She silently prayed, and she entered the car gracefully, followed by her gentleman of a husband.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The boy sipped his cup of coffee as his dark hair reflected the sunlight that was directly above him. He sat there, on one of the many chairs that were aligned outside the café. He looked at one of the passing girls, earning him a few giggles from them. He smiled. He had changed, and quite a lot too. Last time, he used to be one of those more reserved 'country boy', now he was proud to say that he had changed.

Suddenly, the voices came through his earrings, making him nearly spilled his coffee on to the pavement. _What a waste_, he thought to himself as he winked at a passing lady wearing a business suit, who gave him an interested look and walked away.

"I hope you're not flirting with girls." The feminine voice patched through his earrings. They looked like they were made of sapphire, but they were really alien objects that were unique. Out of this world.

"Don't worry, I'm doing my job here as best I can. Plus, I'm quite enjoying this place." He said, as natural as one could be and then pulled back both of his side burns. They grew a bit long and out of place…

"STOP playing with your sideburns please. Well, accomplish what you are sent there to do as quickly as possible so that I can bring you to the other side."

He smiled, as bright as the sunshine. "Sure!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joel lay back on his seat in the bus. It had been so long since he could be as comfortable as this. Silently, he took out his wallet, and opened it. At least his money and his IDs were still in there, so no worries for now. He looked at his photograph as he took it out, _their_ photograph. Him, his dad, and mom.

In that picture frozen in time, he was holding hands with his mother, and his father, the big man was holding them like a doll. His mother, who was already weak from her condition, looked even frailer as her long, brown hair flowed down her shoulder like a waterfall; her dispirited eyes looked at the camera weakly, the essence of life slowly drained away.

"Father… mother…"

After the muttering, he put the photograph back into his wallet, folded it, and put it back into his pocket and he looked out of the windows, thinking back. He had made friends with a few of the forty four hundreds…

He met a woman… a teacher, actually. She had long golden hair, let loose. She was miserable, just like the rest of us, but she never gave up hope, saying that they would let us out one day, as they could never keep us in quarantine forever. I admired her strength, her unwavering courage in this kind of times.

Then he had also met Maia Ruttledge, a peculiar but cure girl who had always 'warned' him of their impending meetings like "We'll meet tomorrow" and "The man wants to talk to you." Well, her 'predictions' were coming true, as long as he wanted to know. She also told him that they would meet again, though she never said when.

After that, he had a pleasant meeting with a certain Shawn Farell… He shook his head at the thought of him. They were born at the same year, but they were at different age. He was tired of such contradictions…


End file.
